


take me the way I am

by hapakitsune



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Bodyswap, Established Relationship, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma wakes up one day to find a stranger in her boyfriend's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take me the way I am

Emma was woken by the sound of Andrew shrieking and falling out of bed. She rolled over to look down at him and said grumpily, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Andrew squeaked, sounding winded. "I just – where is my phone? Where are my pants?"

"Your phone is the bedside table and your pants –" Emma smirked. "I think those are in the front hall."

Andrew made a slightly strangled noise and straightened up. His hair was in complete disarray and he looked way more stressed than she thought he should be. She reached out to touch him; he flinched back, then looked horrified.

"I just need – I need my phone," he said, and he grabbed her phone off the table. "I'll – I'm going to make a call."

"Andrew," she said, amused, "that's my –"

But he had already darted into the bathroom, streaking away in his little briefs, and she sighed, flopping back into her spot. She closed her eyes and listened to the distant sound of Andrew's frantic mutterings. She wondered who on earth he needed to call this early in the morning, then she dozed off again.

She was roused when Andrew sat down on the edge of the bed. "Emma," he said, sounding a little strange. She rolled over and squinted up at him. The sheet slid down her shoulders and Andrew averted his eyes nervously.

"My, um, friend – Joe, um, Mazzello, you haven't – you haven't met him but you know who he is?"

"Yes?" she said slowly, puzzled. "I know of him. Why?"

"He's coming over today," Andrew said awkwardly. "Soon." He still wouldn't look at her, which was too bad because she had been hoping she could tempt him into another round of sex before lunch. But it was obviously one of his off days, and she had been dating him long enough to know that she just needed to leave him be. So she slid out from underneath the sheets, tugging up the straps of her night dress as she did so. Andrew let out a small noise and turned completely away from her.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Emma asked, frowning at his back.

"I'm fine," Andrew very obviously lied. "Go, um, get ready."

Emma flapped her hand at him and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She knew that Andrew had gotten along well with Joe – they occasionally got together for lunch when Andrew was in LA – but she hadn't expected him to come over at any point. She was going to have to try really hard not to mention _Jurassic Park_ she reflected wryly as she toweled off. He probably wouldn't appreciate her making a velociraptor joke.

She got dressed and went out into the living room of Andrew's apartment, braiding her hair so that it wouldn't drip all over the floor. Andrew was sitting on the couch, looking slightly jumpy, and he blinked up at her, startled.

"That was fast," he said, sounding worried.

"Yes?" she said, frowning. "Are you _sure_ you're all right?" She stepped over a book and leaned forward to press her hand to his forehead.

"I'm fine," he said, edging away from her as she approached him. "I promise."

Emma stopped and put her hands on her hips, staring down at him worriedly. He _looked_ fine – a little scruffy, but she had gotten used to that – it was mostly that he was acting strangely. "All right," she said slowly. "If you say so." She ducked down quickly to kiss him and then went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

She made an omelet – she cooked for Andrew in exchange for having a place to stay when she was in LA – and slid it onto a plate. He was supposed to be keeping up his muscle mass, according to their trainer, but Andrew could be weirdly stubborn about it sometimes. "Andrew!" she called, opening the refrigerator and taking out a yogurt for herself. "Come eat."

"I'm fine, I'm not hungry!" Andrew called back. Sighing, Emma picked up the plate and a fork and marched into the living room.

"Eat," she said firmly, thrusting the plate into his hands. "You can't skip meals."

Andrew pouted, but obediently took the fork and started eating. She went back to grab her yogurt and had just started eating when the door buzzed. She went to press the button and waited until there was a knock at the door. She opened it up and smiled at Joe Mazzello.

He was better looking in real-life than he was in the film; he looked older, for one thing, and his hair was redder in person. His eyes were a gorgeous green-hazel, which was the second thing she noticed after his huge, friendly smile.

"Hi!" he said cheerfully. He made an aborted gesture as though he was going to reach for her, then he dropped his hand and smiled wryly. "Is, uh – Andrew here?"

"Yeah," Emma said, stepping back. "He's eating. Come on in."

Joe hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. "It's, uh, nice to meet you," he said, voice softer now. He made another weird gesture, then held out his hand. She raised her eyebrows in bemusement, but shook his hand gamely.

"Nice to meet you too," she said. He fell into step behind her as she went into the living room, and Andrew leapt to his feet, nearly dropping his plate in the process.

"A – Joe, thank God," said Andrew, and he dragged Joe into the bedroom. Emma blinked after them and picked up Andrew's plate, shaking her head. She was rinsing the plate off when they reemerged, both of them looking worried.

Emma put her hands on her hips and demanded, "Okay, what is going on?"

Joe was the one who spoke first, his brows drawn together. "Emma, it's a bit, um, complicated. I'm – I'm Andrew."

"And I'm Joe," Andrew said. "Sorry about freaking out this morning."

Emma stared at them blankly. "Is this a joke?" she asked after a moment. "Because it's not funny."

"It's not a joke," Joe said, coming over to her. "Ask me anything, Em, and I'll tell you."

Something about the way he said it, the way he looked at her – it was just like Andrew, the way he looked at her when he was trying to be ultra-honest. So Emma nodded and said, "All right."

And then Joe -- Andrew -- broke into this huge, wide smile, and yep, that was Andrew all over. “Oh, Em,” he gushed, taking a couple steps forward. “You’re the most amazing person in the world.”He reached out to take her hand, then flinched back and glanced over at Joe.

Joe was watching them with little expression, mouth in a flat line. Emma had only seen that look on Andrew’s face when he was pretending to be okay and he really wasn’t. Then he forced a fake smile and told Andrew, “It’s fine, you can kiss her.”

“Is it all right?” Andrew asked Emma anxiously. It was weird, looking up only a couple inches and into eyes that were green-hazel rather than brown, but she could _see_ Andrew shining out of the unfamiliar shell, so she smiled and nodded.

And this, at least, was familiar -- Andrew still kissed the same, gentle and slow, his stubble prickling at her skin. She just didn’t have to go up on tiptoes or bend back and that was actually kind of nice.

“Have you eaten?” she asked Andrew when he pulled back. “You should, you know.” She frowned. “I’m not sure what swapping bodies does to the metabolism, but it probably isn’t good.”

Joe snorted and said, “I think the whole thing is pretty not good.”

She flashed him a smile and said, “Yeah, you’re right.” Emma snapped her fingers and added, “We’re going to have to talk about press.”

“What about it?” Andrew asked, confused.

“We have press tours coming up, Andrew,” Emma reminded him, poking him in the side, which normally would get Andrew to giggle and double up, but apparently Joe didn’t have a ticklish spot there. She pressed down the irrational surge of sadness at that and glanced over at Joe. “And you don’t exactly look like yourself at the moment. I think they would notice if Joe showed up instead of you.”

“They might,” Andrew agreed. Perhaps the weirdest part of the whole thing, Emma thought, was hearing _Andrew_ speaking through Joe’s American-accented voice.

“I don’t think I can convincingly pull off being all...Andrew-y,” Joe said, flailing his arms in a very Andrew-ish manner.

“Just stumble over your sentences and say yeah a lot,” Emma said, smirking at Andrew. He punched her lightly in the shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I remember that,” Joe said, a note of fondness creeping into his voice. Now that Emma knew who he was, she could hear the weakening of Andrew’s accent; he sounded like Andrew did when they had just finished a day of filming. “He really is incapable of finishing a sentence.”

“Hey, that is _not_ true,” Andrew grumbled. He pouted -- it wasn’t quite as effective as usual, but Emma still melted a little -- and crossed his arms. (Emma noticed that Joe had, well, quite muscular arms.) “I am perfectly capable of speaking coherently.”

Joe and Emma exchanged skeptical glances and burst into laughter at the same time. She held out her hand to him and said, “Happy to meet you properly.”

Joe grinned and said, “Same.”

 

The three of them sat down together after around the coffee table and started going over the stuff Joe would have to know for the press tour. “Is there anything I need to do for you?” Andrew asked Joe anxiously. “I don’t want to mess anything up for you, man.”

“I’ll give you my calendar,” Joe said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.” He flashed Andrew a small smile. “You’re a much better actor than me.”

“No, I’m not!” Andrew protested and they descended into a self-deprecation match. Emma tolerated it for about thirty seconds before she cleared her throat loudly. They both turned guiltily.

“As cute as your lovefest is, we do have to go over this.” She waved the schedule Andrew had stuck to the refrigerator. “I’ll help you when I can, but we’re not doing all of our press together.”

“Will you have to do press?” Andrew asked Joe. “For that G.I. Joe film?”

Joe shook his head. “Not really, I’m not a lead,” he explained. “But I’m working on a project with a friend of mine from school, so I’ll have to go over that with you.” He glanced over at Emma. “Can I crash here tonight?”

“You should anyway,” Emma said, wincing. “I don’t know if the press is watching us --”

“They always are,” Andrew said darkly.

“But if they see you here and Andrew elsewhere...” Emma trailed off, not really wanting to complete the thought. There were some questions she didn’t want to be asked, and if she could avoid them, she would.

“Ah,” Joe said after a moment. “Yes. That -- would be a problem.” Andrew looked stricken. Emma rested a hand on his knee, reassuringly.

“All right,” Andrew said eventually. “I think -- we can do this. Right?” He looked hopefully at both of them.

Joe and Emma exchanged glances again. Emma bit her lip, thinking, then said, “We also should try to figure out why this happened and if we can fix it.”

In the corner of her eye, she saw Joe looking down, as if he didn’t agree. She frowned and would have said something, except then Joe’s phone rang and Andrew freaked out while Joe coached him through a conversation with his agent. Emma looked in their refrigerator, then decided she didn’t want to make anything and instead called out for pizza.

Joe and Andrew were going over friends and family, the two of them bent close on the couch. For a moment, Emma hesitated in the doorway of the living room. She remembered hearing that Joe had been up for Jesse’s part in _The Social Network_ , which she had originally thought would have been weird, but they seemed to mesh well. Andrew was smiling at Joe with that delighted grin he gives people whose company he really enjoys, none the less bright or gorgeous for being on the wrong face.

She came in and sat down next to Andrew, who obligingly scooted over a little to give her more room before putting his arm around her waist. He was showing Joe his brother and nephews, telling him about how they wore Spiderman pajamas that Andrew had bought for them, his voice low and fond.

Emma and Andrew were scheduled to go to a charity dinner that night, so around four Emma and Andrew took Joe into the bedroom and pulled out the suit Joe was supposed to wear. There was an awkward moment where the three of them just stood there, looking at each other. Then Joe cleared his throat meaningfully, and Emma and Andrew both flushed and turned away so Joe could change.

“How do you live with legs this long?” demanded Joe in a disgruntled voice. “Don’t you trip over yourself?”

“Sometimes,” Emma said before Andrew could protest.

“I’m a lot more coordinated these days,” Andrew said grumpily. “Those exercises Armando made me do improved my balance.”

“Okay,” Joe said after a moment. “How is this?”

Andrew and Emma both turned around to look at him. He looked -- he looked like Andrew, from the messy, puffed-up hair to the weird socks. Emma blinked and felt a moment of severe displacement. Then Joe said, “Well?”

“The hair isn’t quite right,” Andrew said, frowning. “Come into the bathroom, let me fix it.” He grabbed Joe around the wrist with his trademark disregard for personal space and pulled him into the bathroom. Emma waited until they were gone to undress and change her underwear before pulling out the gown her stylist had sent her.

She was struggling with the zipper when the door to the bathroom opened. Forgetting Joe’s presence, she called, “Andrew, can you help me?”

“I --” Joe said in that weird softened version of Andrew’s voice. “He’s washing gel off his hands.”

Emma twisted her neck so she could look at Joe. He was very carefully looking everywhere but her. She rolled her eyes and said, “Then you help me.”

“Okay,” he said, coming over. “I -- okay.” He fumbled with the tiny metal pull, his fingers brushing against the skin at the small of her back. She shivered involuntarily and swept her hair aside so he could pull it up.

“Thanks,” she said when he finished. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. “I hate how long it takes to get ready for these things.”

Joe shrugged. “I remember hating them when I was a kid,” he said. “They made me comb my hair and wear suits that were too big for me. But I liked the food.”

Emma snorted and smiled at him. “You were a cute kid,” she told him, forgetting her promise to herself not to talk about Joe’s child actor days. “I bet you looked sweet.”

Joe smiled a little and said, “Thanks.” He stepped back so she could get to the improvised make-up table she had set up in the corner of the room. “You look -- really beautiful.”

“Aww,” she said, flashing him a smile. “I’d return the compliment, but it would be a bit weird in this context.”

“Just a bit.” Joe leaned against the wall, looking down at her as she opened up the mirror. “So I was wondering -- how are we going to do this?”

“Do what?’ she asked as she rubbed foundation under her eyes.

“I mean -- you and Andrew are keeping your relationship out of the press, right?” Joe asked. “So how should I act?” He grinned and waggled his fingers. “Should I offer you my arm and pull out your chair?”

“Just act like Andrew,” Emma said as she swept her eyeliner over her upper lid. “You can stick by me if you feel uncomfortable, Andrew usually does.”

Joe seemed to wilt a little. “This sucks,” he said grimly. “I didn’t think --” He shook his head and reached out as if he was going to touch Emma’s shoulder, then dropped his hand. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Emma.”

Emma turned and looked at him square in the face, trying not to be weirded out by this almost total stranger wearing her boyfriend’s face. “I’m -- it’s going to take me a little while to totally process it,” she admitted. “But you seem nice and Andrew likes you --”

“Andrew likes everyone,” Joe interjected.

“True,” Emma conceded, smiling. “We’ll get through this, Joe.” She turned back to her mirror to finish applying her make-up. She could see him watching her in the reflection; it felt almost like a normal night.

Andrew came out of the bathroom as she was slicking on her lipstick. He was wiping his hands on his borrowed jeans and muttering under his breath, but when he saw Emma, he drew up short.

“Oh, I wish I was going with you,” he said wistfully. “You look gorgeous, Em.”

She got to her feet and smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll be able to entertain yourself while we’re gone.” She slipped into her heels, balancing carefully. “The car service is on its way,” she added to Joe. “We should get ready to head out.”

“Can I get a kiss at least?” Andrew asked plaintively, going up on tiptoes. It was weird, being taller than him, but there was something oddly thrilling about being the one to cup his cheeks. Her lipstick smeared a little on his lips, staining the corner of his mouth. He smiled up at her and said, “Have fun.”

She turned back to pick up her purse and saw that Joe was staring at them, a weird, distant look on his borrowed face. He forced a smile when he saw her looking at him and said, “Ready to go?”

 

The car ride started out stilted and awkward until Emma asked Joe about his film projects and he lit up like a candle, accent flickering in and out as he talked about the script he was working on before being sidetracked onto his college years. He noticed the accent thing about halfway through and shook his head before trying to imitate Andrew’s speaking patterns, which was weirdly hilarious because Joe was really nothing like Andrew.

“-- and then,” he was saying as they pulled up in front of the hotel, “they shouted that I had to get off the field and --” The door opened and he clammed up immediately. He gave her a small, nervous smile, then stepped out and offered her his arm. She let him take it and the two of them separated to do their walks down the carpet.

The dinner was mostly boring, so Emma stuck by Joe, who looked a little out of his depth. She snagged two glasses of champagne for them and took him around with her to talk to people. Joe was good company -- he made good conversation and was charming, albeit in a completely different way from Andrew -- and she occasionally forgot that he looked like Andrew, focused as she was on the altered timbre of his voice and the (often hilarious) stories about his time at USC.

They didn’t get back to the apartment until late, but Andrew was still awake, curled up on the sofa watching Nick at Night. He smiled sleepily as they poured in together, giggly and punch-drunk from champagne and the late hour, and asked, “Did you have fun?”

“We did!” Emma chirped, swooping down to kiss him. “Did you entertain yourself?”

“I did.” Andrew starfished his limbs out in an ungainly stretch, then rolled off the couch and bounced to his feet. “Joe, did you treat my girlfriend nicely?”

“He was a perfect gentleman,” Emma said, smiling at Joe.

“I even held doors open for her,” Joe said.

“Aww, that’s so lovely!” Andrew said. “All right, you pass.” He smiled brightly at Joe. “I’m going to sleep now that you’re home.” He waved sleepily and started shuffling towards bedroom. Joe glanced at the couch.

“I guess I’ll sleep here,” he said, shrugging off the suit jacket.

“What? No!” Emma said, feeling instinctively that he shouldn’t have to do that. “I’ll sleep there.”

“No,” Joe and Andrew said in unison.

There was a moment where they all glared at each other, all equally stubborn. Finally, Andrew let out an annoyed sigh and said, “The bed is plenty big enough for three, come on,” and went into the room.

Emma looked at Joe, who was rubbing his stubbly jaw and looking concerned. “Are you all right with that?” she asked hesitantly.

He caught her eye and said, “Yeah. I guess.” He suddenly flashed a her a smile. “Fair warning, though, I kick in my sleep.”

“Of course you do,” she said, following after Andrew.

It was a tight squeeze with the three of them, but after some fidgeting, they managed to settle in more or less comfortably, Emma curled up against Andrew-in-Joe’s-body, facing Joe. It was weird, to say the least, but it was warm and comforting, and she was tired enough that she fell asleep after worrying for only a few minutes.

 

When she woke up in the morning, she was tangled up with Joe, her face mashed into his shoulder and their legs tangled together. She started back in surprise and rubbed at her face. Joe slept peacefully on; he probably hadn’t realized what a lightweight Andrew was, Emma thought in amusement as she rolled out of bed.

Andrew himself was nowhere to be seen, but there was a note on the door that read, _Went back to Joe’s for clothes and stuff -- don’t forget you guys are going to New York in two days!_ Emma took the note down and went back in the bedroom to put it in her suitcase with the other myriad of notes she had collected from Andrew, and found that Joe was waking up, looking hilariously shell-shocked.

“I guess it wasn’t all a strange dream, then,” Joe said when he saw Emma. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she returned. “Andrew went back to yours to get clothes, I believe. And we are supposed to be packing for New York.”

“New York?” Joe asked. He gave her a sloppy smile. “I guess a visit to my parents is out of the question.”

“Probably, unless you feel like explaining this to them,” Emma said absently as she refolded her clothes. “I’m staying at my apartment. They’ll probably get you a hotel room, but you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“Thanks, but I’ve intruded on your hospitality too much already,” Joe said. “And won’t Andrew be jealous?”

“I don’t know, does it count as cheating if you’re wearing his body?” Emma asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “But honestly, you’re welcome to hang with me. We had planned on meeting up with Jesse -- oh, that’s too bad,” she realized suddenly. “Andrew was really looking forward to that.”

Joe looked a little worried now. “I don’t know if I can pretend to be Andrew for Jesse,” he said dubiously. “They’re, you know.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, standing. “But I did promise Jesse.”

Joe visibly steeled himself and nodded. “Yeah, that’s -- it’ll be fine.” He got out of bed, smacking his lips. “Andrew really can’t hold his alcohol, can he?”

“No,” Emma said sadly. “He really can’t.”

“Yeah, I’m going to go take some Advil,” Joe said. “Where do you keep it?”

“Second cabinet on the left above the sink,” Emma replied, picking out a change of clothes and heading towards the bathroom. “Eat an omelet or something, Andrew’s supposed to be keeping up muscle tone.”

Joe flapped his hand at her and left the bedroom. Emma stripped off her nightgown and turned on the shower, then slid in with a grateful sigh.

When she had finished showering, Andrew had returned and was wearing a t-shirt. Emma wondered idly if it physically pained him not to have a plaid shirt to wear over it. They exchanged good-morning kisses as Joe drank coffee (Emma didn’t even know that Andrew had coffee in the apartment -- was that a French press?) and Andrew lifted a bag.

“I had the foresight to pack this time,” he said cheerily. “I guess I’ll stay here until you two go off to New York, yeah?”

Joe shrugged. “It’s fine with me,” he said. “I don’t have anything going on until the weekend. Then you should probably stay in my apartment. Make yourself at home.”

“Cool,” Andrew said, flinging himself into one of the chair at his table. “So tell me about the thing you were doing --”

Emma tuned out the rest of his sentence as she went foraging for breakfast. When she came back to the table with a couple pieces of toast, Joe and Andrew were leaning in toward each other, their sentences overlapping as they talked excitedly about something. She sat down and flipped through the week-old issue of _Time_ lying across from her as she nibbled at her toast. She got distracted reading an article on Italy and by the time she looked up, Joe and Andrew had disappeared into the bedroom. She could hear them bickering about clothes, Joe saying, “Don’t you have anything that isn’t plaid?”

She folded the magazine closed and got up to go supervise. She opened the bedroom door to find Andrew with a plaid shirt draped over his head as he laughed hysterically, Joe trying to scowl but obviously cracking up.

“I’m sorry!” Andrew said between giggles. “All _you_ own are t-shirts and that really creepy Justin Bieber costume.”

“It’s a Bielieber costume,” Joe corrected, pulling on one of Andrew’s cardigans and frowning at his reflection. “Emma, you date this hipster reject? He looks like Brooklyn’s artist community threw up on him.”

“I know,” Emma said fondly, reaching out to fix the buttons on Joe’s sweater. “Isn’t it great?’

Andrew pulled the shirt off his head and tried pulling it on. “You have really muscular arms.”

“He’s not a twig like you,” Emma said. “And you have some muscles.”

Joe lifted his arm and flexed Andrew’s skinny bicep. Andrew started giggling again. “I have never heard myself giggle like that before,” Joe observed, watching Andrew with a small smile.

“It’s just -- this whole thing is _so ridiculous_ ,” said Andrew.

Emma started grabbing Andrew’s clothes, folding them up, and placing them in Andrew’s open suitcase. “Yes, you are,” she said.

“Oh, shush,” said Andrew. “You’re mean, Emily Jean.”

Emma grinned at him and then yelped as he grabbed her around the waist. She kicked her feet in protest as he dumped her on the bed and started tickling her. “Okay, I’m sorry!” she gasped, laughing breathlessly. “You’re not ridiculous!”

“Thank you,” Andrew said with dignity, sitting down on her ankles. Joe snorted and straightened up the clothes Emma had placed in the suitcase.

“You’re both ridiculous,” he said. “Perfect for each other.”

“You dressed up as Justin Bieber for Halloween,” Andrew retorted. “You have no room to talk.”

“I was a _Bielieber_ ,” Joe said, but he was grinning down at them fondly.

“I’ve seen your Fourth of July pictures,” Andrew said. “Admit it, you’re as bad as us.” He reached out and grabbed Joe’s hand. Joe’s eyes went wide just as Andrew yanked, hard, and Joe came flying onto the bed next to them.

“Thanks,” Joe said, voice muffled by the mattress.

Andrew snorted and rubbed Joe’s back in faux comfort. Emma poked Joe in Andrew’s ticklish spot and Joe convulsed, dissolving into laughter. Emma snickered, closing her eyes. “Welcome to the club, Joe.”

“Mm,” Joe hummed.

 

Joe and Emma left for the airport early the next morning, crammed into the back of another rented car. They had first class seats on the flight -- there were definite perks to doing a film for a major production company -- and Emma kicked off her shoes before curling up in her seat. Joe settled in next to her, pulling out a book called _Brimstone_. 

Emma wasn’t a huge fan of flying; she preferred to just sleep. She dozed off as the plane was still boarding and didn’t wake up until more than halfway through the flight. She had shifted in her sleep and had ended up with her head resting on Joe’s shoulder. She jerked upright and blinked at him. He gave her a small smile and went back to reading his book, apparently completely unbothered. Emma rubbed her face and squinted at the glass of champagne sitting on the little tray table.

“Oh, I thought you might want it,” Joe said when he caught her looking at it. “I drank mine.”

“Thanks,” she said, reaching out and picking it up. “That’s nice of you.”

“Sure,” Joe said, flashing her a small smile. “My sister doesn’t like flying, either.”

She drank her glass of champagne instead of answering; it was the kind of thing that Andrew would have done for her. She pulled the SkyMall catalogue out of the pocket in front of her and tried to distract herself with the descriptions of noise cancelling headphones.

 

Joe ended up coming to Emma’s apartment even though he kept protesting that he could stay in the hotel room. Emma ignored him and just told the driver to go to her apartment. Joe gave her a look and she arched her eyebrows at him.

“Fine,” he said, lifting his hands in defeat. “You win.”

“Good,” she said, satisfied, and she sat back in her seat. Joe looked out the window with a wistful look on his face, and Emma remembered that he was from New York. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, then said, “Tell me about New York.”

He looked over at her, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on, tell me about it.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted over into the middle seat. “How long has it been since you were last home?”

“Not that long, but -- I do miss New York,” Joe said quietly. “My whole family’s here. But the work is in LA.” He suddenly brightened and pointed at something out the window. “That place has _amazing_ ice cream.”

She listened to him wax lyrical about the ice cream, a pizza place on 1st Avenue, and the Yankees. He stuttered to a halt as they pulled up in front of her building and gave her a strained smile. “Sorry, I’ve just been -- you don’t want to hear all of this.”

“Sure I do,” Emma said, grabbing her keys out of her jeans. “I want to know you better, Joe.”

“But then you should tell me more about you,” Joe pointed out, sliding out of the car after her. “All I know about you is that Andrew is head over heels for you.”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at him. “Head over heels?”

“He never shuts up about you,” Joe confirmed, grabbing the suitcase out of the car. “And I saw your SNL episodes. That’s pretty much it.”

Emma unlocked the door to her building and held the door open for Joe so he could bring the suitcase in. “Well, that’s probably not a bad summary of who I am.”

“Please,” said Joe. “I’m sure you’re more than that.” He lugged the suitcase past her, leaving her feeling slightly overwhelmed. She stared after him, then chased him up the stairs so she could unlock the door to her apartment.

They ate lunch while going over some details of filming so that Joe would be able to give some anecdotes during his interviews. He did a pretty dead-on impression of Andrew, getting the speech pattern and the hand gestures right on. “And if anyone asks about you, I’m just going to say that you’re a very lovely girl,” he finished.

“Sounds like Andrew,” said Emma, smiling. “You’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” Joe said, leaning back in his chair. “This is a little weird. I haven’t done a big interview since I was...really young.” His expression darkened for a moment. Then he forced a smile. “So, what do we have today?”

 

Jesse came over to Emma’s apartment for dinner on the third day they were in the city. Emma had ordered in Italian food and was pouring herself a glass of wine when he rang the bell. Joe buzzed him up and they exchanged worried looks before sitting down next to each other. They both knew it was one thing to fool late night hosts who had never met Andrew and another to fool _Jesse_ , who not only knew Andrew better than anyone they knew except Emma herself, but was also absurdly intelligent.

“You get the door,” Emma whispered, poking Joe in the calf with her toes. “I’ll pour some wine.”

“Okay.” Joe stood and there was a weird moment when he hesitated, hand resting on the back of her chair. She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat. Then Jesse knocked and Joe headed for the door, leaving Emma to try to make it look like she hadn’t just ordered pasta online.

“Hey, Jesse!” she heard Joe say enthusiastically. There was a pause where she knew that they were probably hugging -- Joe wasn’t _quite_ as affectionate as Andrew, but he was close and he knew very well how physical Andrew was -- and then Joe added, “Emma’s inside.”

“It’s good to see you, Andrew,” Jesse said as they came into the apartment. Emma finished poking at the pasta and stood up to give Jesse a hug. He accepted it gracefully, offering her a smile, then sat down at the table across from her.

“How are you?” Emma asked Jesse, gesturing Joe to sit back down next to her. “Working on anything?”

“New play,” Jesse said as Joe filled his wineglass. “It’s coming along all right, I guess.”

Joe managed to prod Jesse into talking more and for about an hour, Emma thought they had gotten away with it. Jesse ate his pasta and acted completely normally. Joe let his arm rest casually along the back of Emma’s chair and did a pretty good job of being Andrew.

But after they had finished eating and Joe had cleared off the table, Jesse sat back in his seat and said, “So where’s Andrew?”

Joe and Emma exchanged panicked glances. “Um,” Emma said, stalling for time, “what do you mean?”

“Come on,” Jesse said. “I know you two, this is -- not you. By now, Andrew would have kissed you at least three times and suggested that we run off with my girlfriend to France.” He squinted at Joe. “Is it --”

“It’s Joe,” Joe said, letting the accent slip until he was back to that half-slurred American-British voice. “Sorry, we just -- how did you --?”

“Hi, Joe,” Jesse said, smiling. “Good to -- see you again, I guess.”

“Yes, we’re all friends,” said Emma, waving her hand and staring at Jesse intently. “More importantly, how did you _know_?”

“Oh, it happened to me once,” Jesse explained. “Switched minds, right? I accidentally switched with Justin Bartha a little bit after we first met.”

“Really?” Joe asked with interest, leaning forward. “How did you switch back?”

Jesse shrugged. “I think -- I think we switched because when we met, he was everything I wanted to be. Confident, funny, friendly -- you know?”

“Jesse,” Joe and Emma said together in identical tones of fond exasperation. Jesse waved his hand to shush them.

“The _point_ is that I wanted to be him and the next thing I knew, I woke up in his body. Living as him for a while made me realize how much I _like_ my life now. I’ve got a great girlfriend and a pretty great life and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” Jesse tipped his wineglass towards them. “One of you probably just has something to work out.”

Emma bit her lip and glanced at Joe, whose face had gone very blank. “I -- okay,” she said quietly. “Joe, are you -- are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Joe said, short and clipped. He got to his feet and started collecting glasses. “Thanks for the help, Jesse.”

“Sure,” Jesse said, frowning up at him. “Joe, you --”

“So can I pick your brain about something?” Joe asked, overriding him, and he started peppering Jesse with questions about putting on plays. Emma still couldn’t say that she knew Joe particularly well, but she could recognize a change of subject. Judging by Jesse’s expression, he recognized it too, but was too polite to say so.

Jesse left around ten, letting Emma hug him and shaking Joe’s hand. “It was good to see both of you,” he said, smiling, his cheeks a little flushed with wine. “ Have Andrew call me, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Emma said, waving. She closed the door after him and turned to look at Joe, wanting to ask if he was all right, but he had already vanished into the bathroom. She went to the futon and neatened up the pillows compulsively, wanting Joe to be comfortable. She went into the bedroom and looked at the empty side of the bed where Andrew usually sprawled out, all long awkward limbs and ridiculous hair.

She missed him. Which, she knew she would -- but it was one thing to know that and another to feel it in her chest, sharp and painful. She really liked Joe, but he was completely different from Andrew.

Emma undressed and curled up on the bed, facing Andrew’s empty spot on the bed. There was a soft knock on the door and she called, “Come in.”

Joe poked his head in, looking nervous. “Emma, are you all right? You were kind of quiet for the rest of dinner.”

Emma patted the mattress next to her and waited as he came and laid down facing her. His brow was furrowed with nervousness. Without thinking, she reached out and smoothed the wrinkle away with her fingers. He stiffened, eyes widening. She pulled her hand back, self-conscious, and said, “Sorry, you just -- sometimes I forget you’re not him.”

“I know,” Joe said quietly. “I’m sorry he’s not here.”

“I just -- what if he’s been freaking out this whole time?” Emma asked Joe. “Am I holding him back from something?”

“No,” said Joe. “No, Emma, don’t be ridiculous. Andrew _loves_ you. You’re an amazing person, it’s -- I’m sure he’s fine.”

Emma looked at him and for a moment, it was on the tip of her tongue to ask if maybe _he_ was the one questioning himself. Then his eyes flicked up to meet hers and she froze. Something in his expression made her not want to ask. Instead, she closed her eyes and said, “You may as well sleep here tonight.”

Joe shifted next to her, but didn’t get up. Emma drifted off, trying not to worry too much about Andrew.

 

Andrew met them at the airport when they landed back in LA, wearing a Yankee’s cap pulled low to shade his eyes and a hoodie that he had clearly taken from his own wardrobe. He greeted them both cheerfully and hurried them into the car, ducking his head to avoid paparazzi.

“I probably shouldn’t have canceled the car for you,” he admitted to them once they were on the freeway, “but I wanted to see you!” He took the cap off and tossed it to Joe, who caught it and jammed it firmly over Andrew’s hair. “How was the trip?”

“It was fine,” Emma said, reclining her seat a bit. “Tiring.”

“Should you even be driving?” Joe asked in concern as Andrew swerved to avoid a Prius.

“I mostly remember to drive on the right side of the road these days,” Andrew said. “And I’m using your license, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, _fine_ ,” Joe said sarcastically. “If you get me arrested --”

“I’m not going to get _arrested_ ,” Andrew said huffily, veering erratically towards their exit. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Yes, because _Joe_ is the drama queen in this car,” Emma said. Andrew snorted, flashing her a bright smile, and took the turn towards her apartment building.

They hauled everything upstairs in one trip. The moment the door was shut behind them, Andrew grabbed Emma in his arms and kissed her, eager and longing. She hugged him tightly, then dropped her arms to twine their fingers together.

Andrew lifted Emma’s hand to his lips and kissed her wrist, once on each bird’s foot, the way he always did after they’d had sex. She rested her head on his shoulder and said, “I missed you.”

“I’m right here,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m always here.”

“It’s not the same,” she whispered, and tried not to think about how Joe made her laugh or the warmth in his voice when he talked to her -- she was just getting mixed up because of they had switched places, that was all. When she looked over at Joe, she saw that he was watching them again. Her stomach twisted and she squeezed Andrew’s hand tightly.

“We’re going to need to talk,” she told him softly before going to take the suitcases into the bedroom. He followed her in, brow furrowed with worry.

“That sounds ominous,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” Emma said, glancing back at him. “I’m just -- we talked to Jesse, and he knew Joe wasn’t you.”

“Oh,” Andrew said, looking upset. “Was he mad?”

“No, of course not,” Emma said. “But he -- he said this happened to him and it’s just, what he said --”

“Em?” Andrew asked when she broke off. “What is it?”

“Andrew, I don’t want to get into it right now,” said Emma sharply. “It’s -- I want to think about it, okay?”

“Emma, you’re worrying me,” Andrew said helplessly. “Please, let me help --”

“He said it’s because you want something else!” Emma snapped finally, putting her hands on her hips. “He said he switched because he was unhappy and needed to switch to realize that he liked his life. Is it me, Andrew? I don’t know what else you could be unhappy with, you’re _Spiderman_ and you --”

“What?” Andrew said loudly, eyes narrowing as they always did on the rare occasions when he got angry. “Emma, don’t be ridiculous, I’m completely happy --”

“Well, obviously not!” Emma shouted, voice cracking as the wave of insecurities and worries she’d been putting off suddenly break free and overwhelm her. She sank down on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. “I just -- Andrew, you could have anyone and I’m not, I don’t know, I’m not much like --”

“Emma,” Andrew said, looking as though his heart is breaking. “Emma, I _love you_.”

“It’s me,” said a voice from the door. They both started and turned to look at Joe, who was standing in the doorway and looking awkward. “It’s me, it’s not Andrew. I’m the one who was -- I wanted Andrew’s life.” He shifted awkwardly. “And of course I ruined it for the two of you. I just -- you have the great career and the recognition and the girlfriend and I’m still the kid who was in _Jurassic Park_ and I would have to trade on my connections to get even a supporting role in the kind of movies you’re getting offered, Andrew.” He rubbed his face and slumped against the door frame. “Do you have any idea how _lucky_ you are?”

“Yes,” Andrew said immediately. “But -- Joe, you’re creative and you know where you’re going. You’re so sure of yourself.”

Joe gave Andrew a look. “Not really.” He stepped further into the room. “And whenever I talk to you, you always sound so _happy_ and I can see why, Emma’s amazing and you live a life that, while kind of overwhelming, is still what most people dream about.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m not sure that switching has convinced me that I have it good, or whatever it is that happened to Jesse.”

“Oh, Joe,” Emma said, staring at him. “Come here.”

He went to her side, looking apprehensive. She got to her feet and took his hands in hers. “You sound like you have your life together,” she said sincerely. “You have projects you work on, you do stuff you believe in, and you do it without the bullshit we have to go through.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from Andrew, and squeezed Joe’s hands. “You’re great.”

Andrew moved so that he was standing next to them and he put his hand over theirs. “I would kiss you too, but that would seem weirdly narcissistic,” he said, looking up at his own face. Joe let out a slightly damp chuckle and let Emma and Andrew hug him.

“You’re both being so nice about this,” Joe grumbled, relaxing a little. “Why are you being so nice about this?”

“Would you rather we yell at you?” Andrew asked, stepping back. “I’m sure Emma can work up a good shout.”

Emma glared at him and said, “You’re looking to spend a night on the couch.”

“Sorry,” he said, kissing her cheek. “But honestly, Joe, we’re not going to be mad at you for being unhappy, that’s just mean. And we’re not mean people.”

“If you don’t cheer up, though, I’ll be tempted to try,” Emma said, patting Joe on the cheek.

Joe laughed and said, “All right, I get the hint,” and started helping Emma unpack the suitcases.

 

Joe put up another feeble protest that night when Emma and Andrew urged him into their bed. Emma hadn’t asked Andrew about what she had been toying with in the back of her head, but she had caught him giving Joe long, considering glances as the night had worn on and she knew that Andrew was more about the person rather than the gender (he had said as much once when very drunk and trying to explain his brief infatuation with Jesse). Joe seemed oblivious, though Emma now knew that he had a better poker face than she might have guessed.

Andrew spooned up behind her as usual, and Joe arranged Andrew’s gawky limbs carefully to avoid bumping them, and said, “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course,” Emma said softly. Andrew echoed her, peering over her shoulder at him, and Joe cracked a small but genuine smile. Emma counted it as a win.

When she woke up the next morning, it was to the feeling of Andrew kissing her wrist. She blinked her eyes open and knew instantly that they had switched back -- it was obvious in the relaxation in Andrew’s shoulders, the soft crinkle of skin at the corner of his eyes when he looked at her.

“Welcome back,” she said quietly, scooting out of Joe’s embrace to kiss him. He clung to her, which told her that he had been more anxious about the whole wrong-body thing than he had been letting on; she had guessed that was the case, because Andrew had a habit of smiling and soldiering on, but it was one thing to guess and another to feel it in the way he kissed her, harder and more desperate than usual.

She heard a rustling of sheets and pulled away from Andrew to see that Joe was trying to creep out of bed, looking ruffled and lost. It was weird, seeing him properly for the first time without Andrew inhabiting his skin. He fit firmly into his broad shoulders, his shock of gingery hair. It made sense for him, she thought.

“Where are you going?” she asked, sitting up.

Joe froze and looked at them guiltily. “I thought that I’d just -- go,” he said. “I should let the two of you get back to your lives.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Emma snorted. “Come here.” She beckoned him forward until he sat down on the edge of the bed, and then she kissed him, firmly this time. It was -- strange, because she knew the way he tasted and the way his beard felt against her skin, but she had never properly kissed _Joe_ before and he was hesitant in a way that Andrew had never been, his hand hovering over her shoulder before landing on her bare skin.

He pulled back and looked past her to Andrew. She followed his gaze and saw that Andrew was watching them fondly, a smile playing around his mouth. “You guys are cute,” he said by way of approval, and he sat up so he could kiss Emma, then Joe. Joe seemed startled by that, but Andrew coaxed him into relaxing with gentle, caressing fingers, and Emma leaned against Joe to kiss his neck until Andrew tugged and made the three of them fall back against the pillows in an undignified heap.

“So I -- I can stay?” Joe asked uncertainly as Emma pushed him so that he was lying across Andrew’s chest.

“ _Yes_ ,” Emma sighed in exasperation. “For as long as you want to. Right, Andrew?”

“Yeah, I --” He grinned sheepishly at her. “I wasn’t sure if you realized.”

“You underestimate me,” she scoffed. Joe suddenly grinned hugely up at her and seized her around the waist, pulling until she toppled over, knocking the wind out of all of them.

“And you’ve underestimated me,” he warned both of them, craning his neck towards Andrew, who kissed him obligingly. Emma snorted and snuggled into both of them. Andrew turned his head and kissed the top of Emma’s head as Joe took Emma’s hand in his, and the three of them shuffled until they fit together like puzzle pieces into their proper place.


End file.
